


Liability

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Gabriel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Blood, Omega Jack, Omnic Crisis, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: “How thefuckdo they keep finding us?”Gabriel kicked aside the busted chassis of a Bastion unit to confirm that neither it nor the omnic beneath it were still functional enough to call for backup.Not, he thought bitterly,that we didn’t make enough of a commotion to get the attention of the rest infesting the city, anyway. He looked up sharply at a clatter ahead, but it was only Jack, picking his way hastily down the collapsed remains of an office building.“Notus,” Jack grumbled as he skidded to a stop at Gabriel’s side. “Me.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So, this was originally a one shot, but as I seem to be very quickly finishing a second part, I'm going to go ahead and post this here. ^^;

“How the _fuck_ do they keep finding us?”

Gabriel kicked aside the busted chassis of a Bastion unit to confirm that neither it nor the omnic beneath it were still functional enough to call for backup. _Not_ , he thought bitterly, _that we didn't make enough of a commotion to get the attention of the rest infesting the city, anyway_. He looked up sharply at a clatter ahead, but it was only Jack, picking his way hastily down the collapsed remains of an office building.

“Not _us_ ,” Jack grumbled as he skidded to a stop at Gabriel's side. “Me.”

“The hell does that mean?”

Shifting his weight, Gabriel turned his face away and scanned the area for any sign of approaching omnics. His vigilance was only mostly out of necessity as he tried not to focus on Jack's scent. Two days ago, Jack had unexpectedly gone into heat, and his sun-drenched sweetgrass scent was pure heaven amid the reek of war, even to Gabriel's city boy nose.

He started as Jack thrust something in front of his face, and it took him a second to recognize it.

“This is one of those new scopes we've been noticing on the omnics. Hasn't helped their aim any. Why'd you scavenge up this thing?”

“It's not a scope,” Jack said with a scowl. “Take a look.”

Passing off the looted bit of tech, Jack unclipped his visor and, without asking, reached to hook it over Gabriel's ear. A flash of pale skin showed between his glove and sleeve, and the scent that rolled off his skin hit Gabriel like a punch. He closed his eyes, willing away the urge to grab Jack's arm and yank back the sleeve in order to run parted lips over his bared wrist. Belatedly, Jack noticed and snatched his hand away, mouth twisting around a muttered apology that Gabriel waved off.

The visor made no noise as it lit up, analyzing anything that came within sight and focusing in on things of immediate interest. Jack was faintly haloed in blue—an ally. Downed omnics were traced in red, then, as no sign of energy was detected, the color faded and they were dismissed as mere piles of debris. Gabriel held up the scope and focused on it, and the visor immediately pulled up an analysis as he turned it one way and another. The information lighting up the display made his blood run cold.

“Shit,” he whispered. “When the hell did they come up with an upgrade like this?”

“Had to have been recently. We only started to notice them in the last, what...two, three weeks? Damn things are _learning_ , Gabe, and they're turning our own fucking biology against us!”

The thing Jack had brought back was definitely not a scope. It was a sensor, designed to analyze the atmosphere and pick up on trace chemical signatures...including pheromones.

“Betas will mostly be all right,” Jack muttered. “And you alphas don't have a lot to worry about unless something really sets you off. People like me, on the other hand....”

He trailed off, not needing to finish. Caught in the middle of his heat, Jack was giving off huge quantities of pheromones. Any omnic close enough to their trail could potentially pick up his scent and track them. It was no wonder they'd been harried halfway through the city they'd been sent to clear out. The omnics had been relentless, and Jack and Gabriel were the only surviving members of what had been a squad of eight, with the heaviest losses and most dogged pursuit happening...

...right after Jack's heat had set in.

It took a conscious effort for Gabriel not to crush the sensor and fling it to the ground. Instead, he pocketed it to be considered later and returned Jack's visor. He could think of a dozen other primary uses for the sensor—detecting explosive materials, gunpowder, exhaust—but Jack hadn't been wrong when he'd zeroed in on the thing being used to track down omegas. The pheromones he was giving off right now were meant to be easy to detect even without chemical analysis. What he'd just pulled off an omnic amounted to neon signs pointing out targets on their backs. They needed to move.

“Good job,” he said, patting Jack on the shoulder and knowing that if he hadn't already come to the same conclusion, that it wouldn't be long before the thought entered his mind. “Now that we know about that, we'll just have to change up our tactics. For now, let's find someplace to hole up.”

He set off, making sure to walk with the direction of the wind. Jack fell in behind him, boots crunching over rubble and debris in quiet, seething resentment.

“Don't worry about it, Jack.” Not Jackie anymore, not since he'd become aware of his attraction to his second-in-command. “It's just one more factor to keep in mind.”

Jack remained silent.

* * *

 

Finding a suitable place to regroup proved difficult in the ruined city. They needed visibility, low air flow, and multiple exits. Basements were right out, and any place higher than three floors up proved risky against enemies that could simply tear the building down beneath their feet.

The area was a shambles: block after eerily quiet block of shattered glass, melted steel, and crumbled brick, all littered with the bodies of those not fortunate enough to have escaped before the omnics fell upon them. The city itself was a lost cause, with upwards of sixty percent of its buildings razed before Gabriel and his unit even had boots on the ground. In reality, they had only been flown in to destroy as many omnics as they could. It was only secondary that their presence provided a small distraction to aid the continuing evacuation efforts.

This wasn't the first time they had seen destruction on such a massive scale, but Jack's condition made them unusually vulnerable, and left Gabriel jumping at shadows. He kept his eyes trained resolutely forward, alert for any sign of attack. Jack was their rearguard, and Gabriel trusted him to watch their trail, though his fingers were ready on the triggers of his shotguns.

Increasingly impatient to find a safe place to rest, he didn't immediately recognize the strangeness of Jack's prolonged silence. What he did notice was that, even though he was walking into the wind and Jack was following several paces behind, Gabriel could still smell him through the reek of dust and death that overhung the streets. Walking amid utter devastation with the phantom scent of high summer trailing him, he felt he was making his way out of hell. The idea of glancing back now struck a chord of superstitious fear. He pictured omnics appearing from ahead in his moment of inattention, bearing down on them, guns blazing, Jack's body jerking as bullets struck their mark....

“All right back there?” Shattering the quiet dispersed the disturbing images of his imagination. He paused, listening to Jack's footsteps, and only then hearing his partner's silence. “Jack, you okay?”

Jack was much closer than he'd expected. His face was flushed and gleaming with sweat where it wasn't grimed with dirt. He reeked of days of fighting, of clothes that needed to be burned rather than washed, of old blood and oil and soot, and mixed in with all of that, enticing enough to make every other odor irrelevant, was the scent of his heat. His body was churning out pheromones to signal potential mates; filling the air, marking their surroundings, leaving a trail for the omnics to follow. To Gabriel, he smelled like a dream: like running through a summer field, like earth and green, growing things, like mulberries. He was leaning in before he knew it, ensnared by that alluring, thickening scent. He barely caught Jack's response to his question.

“...want to shove you down and ride your cock until I can't move.”

Gabriel shook off his distraction. “ _What_?”

The expression Jack wore was remarkably unrepentant. “I'm horny as _fuck_. I'm hot, _wet_ , and miserable. Oh. And I'm responsible for getting the others killed. All in all, been better. Good talk.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Gabriel had to grab Jack's shoulder as he stepped past. “You are _not_ responsible for that. Hell, Jack. You know better than to start thinking that way.”

“The omnics found us _again_ and _again_ because of _me_ ,” he insisted, voice low and certain. “I'm a liability right now.”

Gabriel dropped his hand from Jack's shoulder and straightened. “Cut the crap!” he barked, satisfied to see the way Jack started at his drill sergeant tone. “We're _soldiers_ , Jack. We get shot at, and we fucking _shoot back_. Did you stick it out through the Program just to turn tail now? Because the omnics found another way to come at us? Why the hell did you enlist, then?”

“To fight,” Jack mumbled.

“What was that?” He cupped a hand behind his ear and leaned in. “'To run away?' You just gonna let the omnics win because your body's kicking up a stink?”

“All right, you've made your point!” He grimaced as he pushed Gabriel out of his personal space. “I'm here to fight a fucking war, okay?”

“You are here to _win_ a fucking war.” When Jack only nodded, he prompted: “Say it.”

Jack finally cracked a smile, and that crooked, joyless expression spoke to a ferocity that Gabriel never wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“I am here to make the omnics regret ever gaining sentience.”

“That's the spirit.” Clapping him on the shoulder, Gabriel took up the lead once more. “Hold your head up and fight, Jack. I'm not letting you quit after all we've been through. Who else could I trust to watch my six?”

He made a point of not once looking back as they walked, but the pause had done more than yank Jack out of his dark thoughts. Gabriel rewound the encounter, going over every movement, each brief touch. Jack's scent had permeated his glove. It lingered in his clothes. He opened his mouth and breathed shallowly as he walked, tasting it sweet and muggy on his tongue.

He wondered if Jack had been serious.

* * *

 

They stole a car.

It had been left mostly untouched by the destruction, and Gabriel hotwired it while Jack slouched in the passenger seat, bickering with him over whether it was borrowing, since they weren't going to keep it, or stealing, since they hadn't asked permission. Whether he was simply trying to take his mind off his misery or not, Jack's insistence on calling it theft eventually wore away Gabriel's patience until he declared that they had _commandeered_ the car. Silence fell. Jack shifted uncomfortably. Gabriel tried to ignore the fact that being in such close quarters had him aroused, too. The steering wheel creaked beneath the force of his grip as he wished there had been another way to put some distance between them and Jack's scent trail.

It was slow going on the damaged roads. Gouges and torn up sections of asphalt kept them moving at a crawl. They could have jogged the distance faster. Neither complained. Gabriel took turns at random, keeping an eye out for likely places to hole up and for omnics, as Jack did the same for his side. Aside from their commandeered vehicle, the city was still.

“Maybe I can act as bait,” Jack said with a humorless laugh.

“What?”

“You know. For the omnics. Wander around, draw them out.... We can have a team hidden and ready to blast them all into scrap metal.”

“Don't be stupid,” Gabriel growled.

The trouble was, he'd already thought of that. And if he and Jack had both thought of it, then the brass—as soon as they learned the omnics had a new way to track people—would think of it too. What scared Gabriel was knowing that things were desperate enough that they might give it a try. What were the lives of a few sacrificial lambs weighed against the survival of humanity?

“As a last resort,” Jack grumbled. He sounded put out, and Gabriel took a turn more sharply than he needed to.

“Getting yourself killed won't bring the others back.”

Jack looked suitably chagrined. “I wasn't talking about getting myself—”

“I've had enough splitting hairs today. We're both running on fumes. We need to rest and plan.”

The next street Gabriel turned onto was cracked open all the way across so that he had to reverse back the way they had come. As he tried the next street up—slowly, so as not to make the same mistake twice—Jack spoke up.

“Gabe, what you said before...about me watching your six. I'll make sure nothing gets the drop on you. Whatever you come up with, I'll follow your lead.”

“I know, Jack.” He grinned. “No one's paying you to ignore your superior officer.”

“Ass.”

Even as he said it, he smiled faintly, and something in Gabriel's chest eased. Jack would be all right. He just needed some time to come to terms with what had happened. There was nothing they could have done this time, but Gabriel was determined not to let it happen ever again.

He directed his focus to the road and their surroundings, and kept his hands firmly on the wheel. Resisting the urge to reach out to Jack was a struggle. The car had filled with his scent the way a sauna fills with steam. They were marinating in it, but couldn't risk cracking a window and letting omnics catch wind of them. It made Gabriel's head swim. He wanted nothing more than to pull over and drag Jack into the back seat, strip him bare, mark himself against Jack's skin. The strength of those desires was unsettling. They went far beyond the careful bounds he kept around his feelings for Jack.

The side-effects from the SEP treatments had included a resistance to certain medications. The suppressants Jack took were not always effective. Add that to the way the Program had caused irregularities in heat and rut cycles, and predicting the start and duration of a heat was nigh impossible. Having been nearly inseparable through most of the Program, Gabriel had seen Jack go through a number of heats, but none of them had been this strong, and never before had circumstance forced them into such close contact. Worst case scenario would be if it triggered his rut. With omnics hunting for them, Gabriel couldn't afford to be unable to think clearly. He trusted Jack to be able to focus and keep up, but Jack was trusting him to have a plan.

His treacherous thoughts, however, kept recalling him to Jack chewing on his lip in dismay, Jack's voice low and dirty ( _want to ride your cock until I can't move_ ), Jack's incredible, damnable _scent_ , flooding the car, flooding Gabriel's brain, igniting in his blood, leaving him sweating and wanting and fighting to keep his mind on the mission.

He had to hold it together because he couldn't lose Jack, too.

He couldn't lose Jack.

* * *

 

They found the church with a sigh of relief. Minutes later, they found the people inside.

A couple dozen survivors were huddled behind heavy pews, watching with wary hope as the two soldiers entered the sanctuary. Jack froze as he spotted them, eyes going wide, and Gabriel paused, a few steps ahead and still wrapped up in him. His clothes would smell like Jack for ages.

“What is it?”

Jack closed the distance between them, and Gabriel's instincts warred over the loss of his personal space. He bit the inside of his cheek and pretended he couldn't smell the slick that had to be oozing down Jack's legs.

“This was a mistake. We need to leave—on foot. We can't lead the omnics here.”

“If they can follow us, then it's already too late. Best to stay. We can call for an evac unit. In the meantime, some of these people are probably injured. They'll need help.”

“The best help I can give them is to get far away from here,” Jack whispered insistently.

Gabriel remained nonplussed. “You've got some medical training, don't you? The best help you can give them is some hope and a bit of first aid.” He fixed a smile on his face for the civilians and walked away.

Jack was afraid for these people. Understandable, given the circumstances, but they had a job to do. Gabriel rationalized his abruptness that way as he greeted the spokesperson for the group and radioed for assistance. He made assurances that help was on the way, that Jack would see to the wounded, that everything would be all right. He introduced himself, talked to anyone and everyone, let them tell him their stories and break down and rail at the omnics and the unfairness and horror of it all.

It was a good and necessary thing that he did, walking among them and spreading reassurance, but knowing that didn't change the fact that he had run to them as an escape from Jack. He'd needed a chance to clear his head, but hadn't the heart to say so. He had never let the fact that Jack was an omega come between them before. Now, though, he was afraid of what Jack's scent might coax from him. Having only recently realized that he was falling in love, that wasn't a secret he was ready to part with yet.

Even so, he couldn't keep his eyes off Jack for long. He watched his partner kneeling among the injured to wash and bandage wounds, stitch gashes where necessary, and dole out his meager supply of painkillers. He made a place at the center of his group and set down a biotic field, the second to last that he had. Moving back to the far edge of the warm, yellow glow, he smiled and chatted with his patients, putting them at ease with that effortless charm of his. Only Gabriel could see how nervous he really was.

Jack had to be itching to stick his head outside and take a look. He kept glancing around, his focus uncharacteristically scattered. Eventually, he caught Gabriel's eye and waved him over.

“How's it look?”

“The last transport is heading out of the primary evacuation point—no more room, so they've got to drop that group and circle back. Give it five hours till someone can manage a rescue.”

Dissatisfaction curled Jack's lip, but he made no complaints, knowing that there was nothing to be done. He got to his feet and walked off, trusting Gabriel to follow so that they could talk privately.

“I should leave, just to be safe. There's too much that could go wrong before help gets here.”

“You're staying put. The extraction team's bringing us some fresh supplies and updated intel. We'll look after these people, then finish up our mission.”

“You can't be serious.”

He stepped closer and spoke as quietly as he could. “There's no one else they can send, Jack. It's just us.”

Jack grimaced, and cracked his knuckles. “At least I'll get the satisfaction of personally letting the omnics know how I feel about their new toy.”

“Speaking of which...did you warn them?” He jerked a thumb at the people gathered in the biotic emitter's light.

“There's at least one other omega in this group. I didn't want to make anyone worry.”

“Forewarned is forearmed.”

“In this case, I don't see how it matters. _I'm_ the one easy to trace right now, and since you won't let me go lay any false trails, both of us will be here in case anything happens.”

“Fair enough.”

Truthfully, Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted the news reaching the public. He could all too easily imagine the kind of panic that knowing omnics could trace people individually would cause. Omegas in particular were the most vulnerable, and, therefore, most likely to suffer once word got out. What would happen if an omega fleeing from omnics with a group suddenly went into heat? What would happen if refugees or those needing shelter were turned away for the risk their presence posed? He rubbed a hand over his face, and tried not to worry about hypotheticals outside his control.

“You saw that little bell tower when we pulled up, right? They've been posting lookouts. I'm going to head up there for a bit. You stay here.”

“Bad idea,” Jack said. “You probably reek of pheromones. If we're upwind of a group of them, they might be sharp enough to catch that.”

“Shit. You're right.”

Omega pheromones were meant to linger, and his clothes were saturated with them. He wouldn't make as bright a beacon as Jack, but hanging around in the bell tower would be asking for trouble. Gabriel heaved a sigh, berating himself for carelessness.

He hadn't forgotten, exactly, it was just that Jack's scent was...it was nice. He _wanted_ to be marked with it. The scent was so pleasing, so reassuring, that he'd separated it in his mind from any sense of danger.

“Good catch. I guess I'll just talk to them, make sure they're handling this properly.”

Grinning ruefully, Jack took off his visor and handed it over. “Let them borrow that. It'll offer a better view.”

“Why don't you give it to them? You know how it works better than I do.”

“All they need are the basic functions. You can handle that. I'm going to find a bathroom and see if I can't scrub away some of this smell.”

Both of them knew that wasn't going to do him any good, and Gabriel ruthlessly stamped down on the part of his mind that rejoiced in that knowledge. It didn't help that he realized Jack might simply need some privacy in order to get a bit of relief. He had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if Jack needed any help. With a curt nod, he left to find the person in charge of the watch rotation.

* * *

 

For two hours, nothing of note happened. The lookouts took Gabriel's suggestions to heart and gratefully accepted the use of Jack's visor. Gabriel made himself friendly and available, talking to anyone who approached him with the firm confidence that everything was going to be fine. Jack checked up on the injured group as the biotic field died down. Volunteer security details patrolled the church. People prayed for safety and cursed the omnics. Some advised Gabriel about the war and how it should be fought, others asked him for his frank opinion on whether humanity stood a chance. One man snapped and shouted that the war was the last thing he wanted to hear about, then stalked off alone. Gabriel met Jack's eyes and, a moment later, Jack followed to offer a sympathetic ear to the grief that had momentarily silenced the room. Talk slowly filtered back in. Children raced up and down the rows of pews. A baby cried, and its mother sang quietly as she rocked her child, curled protectively over it even now. The tension of waiting never faded, but it grew quiescent. The reassurance Gabriel tried to spread was as ephemeral as dew before the rising sun over the grim sense of helplessness that pervaded the sanctuary.

Jack still hadn't returned when one of the lookouts came at a run. The room quieted. Most of those not already standing shot to their feet. Fear spread like ripples through the crowd in waves of wide eyes and clenched fists. Gabriel stood slowly from where he'd been sitting on the steps before the pulpit and walked calmly to meet the messenger, eyeing the visor he held, and locking down anything aside from a businesslike confidence.

“We spotted omnics searching the streets a few blocks up! They're heading this way!”

The silence burst into a boil of voices and fear, and Gabriel took a moment to look out over the crowd and ask for calm. He could practically feel the panic simmering just below the surface as everyone pressed in close for guidance and protection.

“You said they were searching. Are they coming straight here?” He was reaching for the visor even as he asked, and clipped it on to watch the recording of the last few minutes of visuals.

“No. They're going block-by-block. They're destroying houses, looking for people.” He swallowed hard. “We...we heard a scream.”

Can't save everyone. The reminder twisted in Gabriel's gut as he studied the visor's readings. Trees and buildings blocked most of the sight, but the omnics could be glimpsed now and again as they crossed through the grid of streets, and the visor kept their positions pinpointed. There were eight OR14s with a trio of Bastion units. Eleven in all. The visor had automatically zoomed in whenever they came into view to provide as much detail as possible. Two of them had sensors mounted. Not an easy fight for two exhausted soldiers, but he and Jack had made it out against worse odds.

Plans began unfolding in his mind—considered then dismissed or revised—even as he quelled another swell of panic with the assurance that they had time. He needed to talk to Jack, get him up to speed and make sure he was ready for a fight. Gabriel appointed three people to keep everyone calm, and went to find his partner.

It was absurdly easy to track Jack down. His scent lingered in the corridors, beckoning Gabriel forward and speeding his steps. The familiar anticipation of a battle became mixed with an entirely different sort of excitement, and Gabriel was open-mouthed, tasting that delectable scent on the air by the time he reached the closed door that he _knew_ Jack waited behind.

He burst in without knocking, having forgotten all about the reason for Jack's departure until he saw them in that tiny office—the man, his shoulders shaking, face buried in the crook of Jack's neck, and Jack, holding him, expression weighty as he offered silent comfort. Both of them looked up with a start, and Gabriel realized abruptly that he was growling. He broke off immediately, noticing guiltily that the man had been sobbing. There wasn't even a chance to apologize. The man pulled away and trudged out of the room, avoiding Gabriel's eyes, careful not to challenge him. He'd probably gotten the wrong idea, thought that Gabriel had come after Jack as an alpha after his omega, but he didn't bother trying to explain.

Jack didn't ask for an explanation, either. “They're coming, aren't they?”

“Yeah.” He returned the visor and quickly summarized the situation as Jack watched for himself.

“What's the plan?” Jack asked as soon as he finished. The trust in his eyes was absolute.

“Hit them before they get here. We'll have to circle around to stay downwind. I want to take them by surprise.” It would be tricky to manage coming from two directions, but if he sent Jack where the wind was strongest against him, they had a chance.

“I'll go. You stay here.”

That again. Gabriel heaved a sigh. “Absolutely not. You can't handle that many alone.”

“Who's to say I'll have to? Two of them have those sensors. What if they split up?”

“Then you'll take one group, and I'll handle the other,” he said stubbornly.

“Gabe.” Jack's level stare begged him to rethink his plan. “Between those civilians and me, who needs your protection more?”

"I can tell you who's more likely to need backup after he pulls some bonehead stunt! These people have been hiding here for days, Jack, and evac's on its way."

"It won't be here in time. Let me do this."

He wanted to say no. Every fiber of his being wanted him to deny Jack's plan and to head out to face the enemy with him. Only cold logic held him back. Jack was right. There was nothing to stop the omnics from splitting their force and making it to the church, and without a soldier posted here, the survivors would be defenseless.

With a growl of frustration, Gabriel grabbed Jack by the hair and held tight. He'd moved without thinking, but didn't let go as he stared Jack down.

“No stunts,” he ordered. “Don't take stupid chances. Don't fuck around. Lead them away. Take out a couple if you've got the shot. And you'd better drag your sorry ass back to me in one piece.”

Jack's pupils had blown wide. He gazed at Gabriel, lips parted, and started to move his head as if to bare his throat. Only Gabriel's grip on his hair kept him from managing it.

“Morrison,” he growled, now having second thoughts if Jack was really this heat-addled. “Did I make myself clear?”

“No stunts, no stupid chances,” Jack repeated. The haziness cleared from his expression. His eyes were sharp as he added: “Come back to you.”

Reluctantly, Gabriel let him go and backed up a pace. He didn't like this one bit, and if he hadn't spent most of the last several years watching Jack train, sparring with him, seeing him tear through omnics and come out ready for more, he wouldn't allow it, would insist on the both of them making a stand outside the church. If anyone could handle this, though, Jack could...provided he kept his cool and didn't try anything foolhardy.

“I'll let the others know what's going on,” he said.

At the door he stopped, one hand on the frame. Jack would make it back. He had to trust that Jack would make it back. Still....

"Did you mean what you said to me earlier, or was that just the heat talking?"

The silence stretched long enough for him to regret asking. Then, with a teasing warmth in his rough voice that brought the image of his lopsided smirk instantly to Gabriel's mind, Jack asked: "What happens if I say I meant it?"

It was a complication. It was probably asking for trouble. A smile turned up Gabriel's lips despite everything.

“I guess we'll find out after you come back.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2, featuring sex and (some) violence. welcome back. =)
> 
> thank you again to everyone who has commented. i hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

It had been a stupid plan, of course. Being the best option they'd had didn't make it smart. If he hadn't needed every breath as he barreled through the tumbledown maze of city streets, Jack would have laughed at the thought that the vague orders he'd been given even constituted something as grand as a plan.

' _Don't fuck around_.'

' _Lead them away_.'

' _Take out a couple if you've got the shot_.'

He took a turn so fast that he had to reach out and catch himself on the corner of the building. Rough brick scraped his bare palm and tore at his nails, but he hardly felt it. Chest heaving, he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath for a minute even as he listened to the noise of the approaching omnics.

_Gabe_ , he thought, _I love you, but god_ damn _it I really could have used some of your strategic wisdom_.

They were running radio-silent, wary of the omnics picking up on the transmissions and finding the church. Having stumbled across that group of survivors, they'd automatically made the lives of the civilians their top priority—directly contradicting their original orders to hunt down and destroy all omnics in the city to the exclusion of any other objective.

They'd split up. A bad move, but with everyone else _dead_ , there hadn't been much of a choice. Jack clenched his fists until his ragged nails drew fresh blood. No time to berate himself for that now. Those deaths would forever be on his conscience, but there were more immediate problems to deal with.

Eight of the omnics had broken away from their search grid to follow him once he'd circled around and gotten in close enough for them to catch his scent. They must have logged him as one of the soldiers they'd been harrying through the city, otherwise he didn't think so many would have left off their search. Or maybe they simply hadn't had any luck hunting so far and were getting bored. Either way, he had his work cut out for him. At least Gabriel would have an easier time of it. The three still searching might make it to the church, but Gabriel could handle a trio of OR14s. Jack had seen him do it before, and if he hadn't already been head over heels for his commanding officer, witnessing that fight would have landed him there. Jack has never been so proud to call someone a friend. He would follow Gabriel into hell...

...except, he was a bit worried now that he'd be going there first. He could hear the approaching clang of metal on asphalt: the measured steps of the Bastion units, the quick, almost clumsy trot of the OR14s. He'd taken one of those out early on...to get the attention of the others. That idea had worked a bit too well, and might have been the real reason the bulk of the group had come after him. In the half hour he'd been leading them away from the church, he'd only managed to disable another OR14 and destroy a Bastion. Two down, five in pursuit, one lurking and potentially calling for backup. He needed to circle back around and put that one out of commission.

' _you'd better drag your sorry ass back to me_ '

“Working on it, Gabe,” he murmured. The omnics sounded close. Definitely in range for a shot. He took a deep breath, lifting his pulse rifle and summoning focus. He would have barely a second of surprise. He needed to make it count.

* * *

 

Jack is lying on his stomach, warm and comfortable despite the aches and pains and stings that feel curiously distant. His body is pleasantly heavy, nestled in cheap sheets saturated with a mix of his own scent and Gabriel's. He nuzzles the pillow, remembering the night before like a dream. He's mostly certain that Gabriel's interest isn't because he's an omega, but at this moment, Jack honestly couldn't care less _why_ Gabriel accepted him. All that matters is that the memories are real, and not another wishful fantasy. He wriggles, seeking out scratches and love bites, remembering Gabriel's lips and hands on him as he touches to waken sensation and better recall the night before.

A door opens with a squeal of old hinges, and Gabriel's scent fills the room, relaxing and arousing all at once. Jack breathes deeply, appreciatively, and rolls his hips. His heat is passing, but not altogether gone.

“I leave for five minutes to grab us some breakfast, and what do I come back to?” His voice is warm, and Jack knows he's smiling. There's something in his tone that had been missing before, something that Jack had gotten a glimpse of when Gabriel had grabbed him by the hair and ordered him to come back.

Gabriel has _claimed_ him.

The thought is _delicious_.

Pleasant shivers run down Jack's spine as Gabriel's fingertips brush his back in passing. His touch skates over the swell of Jack's ass, and he pinches playfully before moving away. Jack grumbles, squirming against the sheets as he feels himself start to stiffen. The room—a cramped single bunk meant for a low-ranking officer—is already close, and the scent of his body calling to Gabriel in his need swamps it. He listens to Gabriel set their breakfast down on the small desk. Jack knows he ought to eat something, but there are other, more interesting hungers to satisfy first.

He practically whimpers as Gabriel's hand settles on his ass, palm cupping him like it was shaped for that purpose. As Gabriel massages gently, his thumb dips down between Jack's cheeks, slipping lower, deeper, rubbing soft, gentle circles against his skin until it brushes against Jack's hole and comes away slick.

“You should get up and eat something,” he says quietly, but he doesn't pull his hand away. His thumb is just barely moving, rubbing at Jack's rim.

“No.” Jack lifts his hips to press back into Gabriel's touch.

“Still going strong?” He asks as if he can't smell it, as if he doesn't feel the slick oozing out.

As Gabriel moves to sit at the foot of the bed, Jack shuffles, drawing his legs up beneath himself to make room, shamelessly lifting his ass higher. Gabriel hasn't let go of him. His other hand glides up Jack's thigh.

“Can I...?” He's already parting Jack's cheeks. He sounds almost nervous, and his breath tickles Jack's skin, close enough to suggest his meaning.

“ _Anything_ ,” Jack breathes. He wants Gabriel in the worst way, and it's hard to care how desperate he sounds with his heat clouding his thoughts and Gabriel so readily obliging him.

His breath catches at the first touch of Gabriel's tongue against him. It's soft at first as he laps at the slick and flicks teasingly over Jack's entrance. Soon enough, however, it becomes a firm pressure circling the tight ring of muscle, and Jack has to remind himself to relax. As Gabriel's tongue delves deeper, Jack moans loud and long. He moans like a whore, but the sound is no performance. Being with Gabriel really is just that good. And sure, a big part of it is that this is what he's wanted for _years_ , but it certainly does help that Gabriel is just about as skilled as all Jack's filthy little fantasies.

Jack's dick is hard and leaking, caught between his stomach and thighs, and he's pretty sure he'll be able to come simply from this. Canting his hips higher, Jack spills a breathless litany of praise over the pillow as Gabriel eats him out. He wants Gabriel to know _exactly_ how good he is, and he hopes—as pleasure and lust sing with the heat surging through his blood and drag his thoughts into incoherency—that his faltering words will pay suitable testament to how skillfully Gabriel leaves him undone.

* * *

 

Another hour and a half. He had to stay alive at least that long by himself. Jack's scalp was bleeding. It kept trickling into his eye. One cheek was scraped raw, and he was pretty sure he was missing a chunk of his ear. The omnics had tried to knock a fucking building down on top of him when they'd gotten tired of his little trick of popping out of alleys to shoot at them. Jack had taken out another Bastion unit, and managed to sever the leg of an OR14 without actually slowing the damn thing down. He was still woefully outnumbered and, after discovering that his pulse rifle had been damaged when the building collapsed on him, hopelessly outgunned. Though he didn't have much use for religion outside of Easter and Christmas, Jack was praying for a miracle. He'd only barely scrambled out of the rubble in time to escape being gunned down.

“Stupid...fucking...sorry excuse...for a plan!” He ground out the words as he dashed around corners and down cramped alleyways. “Whoever...thought it up...should be...court-martialed!”

Momentum carried him out onto a cross street and right into the sights of an OR14.

Jack yelped. The omnic opened fire. Instinct took over.

Having carried the inoperable pulse rifle for no good reason other than he hadn't stopped long enough to set it down, Jack hurled the gun directly at the omnic's head, and dove to the side. Later, he would think that he only survived thanks to a number of factors all coming into play together: his own quick reflexes, the increased strength he'd been granted through the SEP, the fact that he hadn't thought to abandon his rifle despite it being broken, and sheer dumb luck. At the time, all that registered was that the pulse rifle flew true and not only knocked the omnic's head back, but crushed the sensor it had been using to hunt him down.

“ _Ha_!”

The sharp crack of laughter burst from his throat before he could stop it, and Jack scrambled to his feet and fled down the nearest alley.

He took stock of his remaining gear as he ran. Two small grenades, good only if they went off almost directly against an omnic. One biotic field. His sidearm with two extra magazines. If he was as good as Ana, he might have changed his strategy, tried looking for a place to set up where he could manage a few, precise shots to thin out his pursuit even further. Unfortunately, he didn't have the skill necessary to target the handful of points that would be vulnerable to a lower caliber gun. The pulse rifle had been his best bet for fighting back. Without it, the smartest option was to run.

His heart hammered painfully against his ribs. His breath sawed in his throat, leaving it raw. A mix of sweat and blood dripped into his eyes, stinging, and he wiped it away hastily, wondering if the dizzy feeling was breathlessness, blood loss, or the adrenaline from his near miss moments ago. He skidded around the corner, nearly tripping on loose gravel, and hoped he wasn't bleeding enough to leave a trail. Not when he'd only just gotten rid of the omnics' best method for tracking him.

* * *

 

Jack's heartbeat drums in his ears. His breathing is ragged. The tension that had gathered in his body is draining away. His stomach and thighs are a mess of come, and Gabriel is only just easing back, having used that clever tongue of his to encourage Jack to spill every last drop.

“Hungry now?” he asks. He sounds pleased with himself, and Jack loves that smug tone in his voice, loves knowing his pleasure is the reason for it. He can't believe he's this lucky.

“Gabe, as amazing as that was—and don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure my legs wouldn't hold me up just now—”

The praise makes Gabriel laugh. Jack grins to hear it, and continues.

“—do you really think I'm that easily satisfied?”

“We were at it for a while last night.” His voice is a low rumble, soothing.

Jack rises onto his knees, all sinuous grace despite his disheveled state. He's bruised and scraped up from the fight with the omnics. His face is healing, but swollen. His right ear is torn, and his cheek is so tender that even the lightest of kisses makes it ache. One of his front teeth is chipped and a bicuspid feels loose. His left arm is wrapped from shoulder to elbow in bandages. There are dark circles under his eyes and a ragged growth of beard on his chin. He is sweaty and splattered with come and his skin is gritty with traces of the war that refused to be washed away. And still Gabriel watches his every movement as if entranced. Jack sees his nostrils flare and his eyes grow dark with need, and he smiles and holds out a hand.

“You look like you're starving, Gabe.”

Gabriel eagerly accepts the invitation. He strips off his shirt and tosses it aside, then takes Jack's hand and brings it to his lips. He doesn't kiss, doesn't lick or nip, only holds Jack's wrist beneath his parted lips and breathes in his scent, as if the room isn't saturated with it already. Watching him, Jack's heart gives a painful squeeze. Gabriel never said anything before this heat, never acted as if Jack held any special interest for him. Only an idiot would have missed how strongly Jack's scent has affected him over the past few days. Jack can't help wondering how long this pleasant dream will last.

He lets Gabriel take his time, lets him nuzzle against the soft skin of the inside of his wrist. His beard is rough, but not unpleasant. Jack lets him kiss his palm, uncurl his fingers to kiss each callused fingertip. He lets Gabriel bear down upon him as he kisses up Jack's arm, forcing him to lie back. He cards his fingers through Gabriel's hair as the trail of kisses extends over his shoulder and up his neck. He gasps as Gabriel sucks another mark into his throat.

Does he taste good? he wonders. Is the salt of his skin as enticing as the pheromones that drew Gabriel to him? His heart is fluttering in his chest, fleeing from unpleasant what-ifs that won't leave him alone. He tries to forget his nature, tries to lose himself in the feel of Gabriel's mouth hot and demanding against his skin, Gabriel's hands kneading his chest, the heat of Gabriel's cock, firm in his sweats and rubbing gently against Jack's groin. His breath comes faster and more shallow, and the world spins as Gabriel murmurs against his heart, almost too quiet to hear.

“...don't know how hard it was, Jack. Jackie. You've got no idea how hard it was not to say anything....”

* * *

 

He was going to die without having had the guts to ask Gabriel out.

_God fucking damn it_.

“What's the worst that could've happened?” Jack muttered to himself, cautiously peeking out from behind the dumpsters that screened him. “I might have gotten shot down? Looks like that'll happen anyway!”

The final Bastion was three blocks down, searching for him. An OR14 was scanning the street at the other end of the alley he was hiding in. There was little in the way of cover and, although a Bastion wasn't as heavy a hitter as the OR14, it would still kill him just as dead if he got careless.

“Maybe I can throw my other gun at it,” he muttered, grimacing as he replayed the moment in his head. If he survived, Gabriel was going to laugh his ass off, and then chew him out.

The heat-hazed portion of his brain took that idea and ran away with it. Jack suffered a confused deluge of mental images of Gabriel looming over him, shirtless and dominating, ready to dish out some special “punishment,” combined with a few of his preferred daydreams—including Gabriel fucking him over the counter at the shooting range, and eating him out in the back of a transport ship. His dick, not exactly slacking off to begin with, was suddenly painfully hard, and he could feel himself slicking up.

“Not the fucking time,” he growled at his body.

Of all the things for the SEP to enhance, his heats had to be one of the most inconvenient—side-effect or not. They were unpredictable, the suppressants were hit or miss, and if being unmated after a normal heat left him feeling surly for a day or two, the aftermath of his super soldier heat left him positively murderous. The mood he was in now, having been ambushed by his own desires, it was probably a good thing that he'd lost his pulse rifle. Otherwise, he might well have run out, guns blazing, and to hell with the consequences of taking on a squad of four omnics single-handed.

Sweaty, aching, and miserable, humiliated by his body which the Program was supposed to have made as near perfect as humanly possible, Jack tried to console himself with the thought that at least the omnics that had come after him could no longer follow his trail so easily. Cautiously, he peeked out again. The Bastion was slowly approaching, scanning back and forth so that he didn't have enough of an opening to make it across the road to the potential safety of another alley. The building across the way remained mostly whole. If he could make it across, he could move through it rather than along the street. It might give him better escape routes. At the very least, if he could make it up a few stories, he could get a feel for the other omnics' positions.

Just as he was wondering if he was going to have to try the old 'throw a rock to make a noise opposite your position' trick—which always seemed to backfire against omnics—something did it for him. A small clatter turned into a rattling, hissing rock slide of broken concrete and brick. As the omnic turned away to investigate the disturbance, Jack seized his chance and darted across the road.

He should have kept moving. He shouldn't have looked back. The rubble was unstable. A stiff breeze could have upset the balance of debris. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him. One quick glance was more than he needed. A pair of crows had triggered the fall while picking too enthusiastically at their meal. It would be a long time before Jack would be able to clear his mind of the image of a human hand sticking up out of the rubble, blackened, torn, and missing two fingers.

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, he climbed through an open window and crept deeper into the building. He'd seen death before—more recently and more personally—but it never seemed to get any easier knowing that they were always too late to save everyone. Jack remembered thinking that the Program would turn him into a hero. He knew better now. Heroes saved everyone. Soldiers just killed the enemy. If Gabriel could protect those people until the transport arrived, that would be a little heroic. It wouldn't bring back their homes or their loved ones. It wouldn't help the man who had cried on Jack's shoulder, who had been at work when the attack began, who had seen his home in flames on the news, the bodies of his mate and their child bloodied and broken on the lawn where they had tried to escape. It was too hard to believe in heroes in a world where things like that happened on a daily basis.

Jack found a stairwell and climbed. He focused on his steps, one foot in front of the other, up and up and up until there was nowhere else to go. Keeping low, he made a circuit of the top floor, peering out the windows to check the streets for omnics. They were still searching, but were obviously having a hard time working out which way he'd gone. He had an opening, provided they didn't spot him. Even better, it led back toward the church. Time had gotten away from him while he had been on the run, but it had to be roughly thirty, forty-five minutes until help arrived. Now that he could move without making himself a target, he could circle back and rejoin Gabriel.

He decided to take the scenic route, and went in search of the roof access. For a few blocks, the buildings were crowded close enough together that he could jump from one roof to another—provided the next one was still standing. He tried not to think about what-ifs. He tried not to think about crows and hot tears against his neck. He tried not to think about Gabriel holding him by the hair and preventing him from baring his throat in submission. He allowed himself only one thought not related to his current objective: that as soon as they were out of this hellhole, he was going to ask Gabriel to get a drink, and he was going to do his damnedest to be sure the evening ended with the two of them making good use of one bed.

* * *

 

His skin is a mess of small wounds—scrapes, bruises, cuts, burns, shallow gashes. They cataloged them all last night in the shower as Gabriel began learning his body. Jack doesn't remember how he got so torn up. His left arm itches beneath the bandage, and aches as it heals. His back is hot, and radiating a dull pain. He's lucky the shots only grazed him.

Jack's almost afraid of how much good luck he's had in the past twelve hours. Then again, maybe it's only balancing accounts after the fiasco with his heat and the omnics' new sensors. It's hard to stop thinking about it—about the war, about everything that could have gone wrong, about everything that did go right. All he wants is to focus on the feel of Gabriel's mouth against his skin, the graze of his teeth as they drag closer together to bite one of his nipples. He gasps at the sensation, yanked momentarily out of his head, and begs for more, more, more, yes, again, Gabriel, _please_! It's easier just to feel.

He wants everything Gabriel can give him—the dull scrape of teeth, the sharp pressure of incisors, the shivers that spread from pinching bites, the warmth that blooms for kisses. Gabriel's hands skim his body lightly, almost reverently. His fingertips trace the shape of him. They seek out scars, pray gratitude for his survival in the language of tenderness, and move on. Gabriel's lips are chapped. They tickle against Jack's skin, and every few moments, he pauses his work of driving Jack mad with kisses to lick his lips, and his kisses become briefly softer. They give Jack chills. It's impossible to stay still beneath all of Gabriel's attentions.

The sheets, already exchanged once before they slept, are freshly smeared with slick and come. The smell of it is thick in the air, and Jack can feel it working on Gabriel by the way his fingers curl more possessively around him, by the way his kisses linger, by the way he nips more sharply, and grinds his weight down. Both of them want this so badly. Jack feels stupid for having waited, and stupid for asking in the midst of his heat, having seen that Gabriel wasn't unaffected. Doubt crouches in his mind, whispering to him.

_Claim him!_ His instincts scream as he clutches at Gabriel's back. _Let him know! Let the_ world _know!_

Gabriel nuzzles his temple, no longer trying to hide the fact that he's as greedy for Jack's scent as for air. He smells incredible, like a perfect autumn day, like the sweetness of crisp, fallen leaves, like bonfires, or maybe like gun smoke, but mixed with the scent of Gabriel's skin, the odor is intoxicating. Jack's mouth is opening wide before he can think about it. His teeth dimple the skin at the crook of Gabriel's neck, and they both go still: Gabriel out of surprise, and Jack out of respect, though he trembles with the urge to bite down and mark Gabriel permanently as his own.

“Jack...?”

He doesn't speak. He rolls his hips up against Gabriel's. He digs his nails into his back.

Gabriel pulls away. Concern is warring with lust and winning, and Jack is suddenly desperate for his touch. He starts to sit up, reaching, but Gabriel catches his hands easily and pins them against the pillow.

“You with me, Jackie?”

“Right here. I'm right here, Gabe.” _Touch me. Kiss me_.

For some reason, that makes Gabriel laugh softly. “Just checking in. You.... Were you paying attention to what you were about to do?”

Jack nods. “Can I?”

There is a long pause. He shifts beneath Gabriel, hinting not-so-subtly with an upward thrust of his hips that he has no interest in this stillness. It doesn't win him the desired result.

“Jack...there's a lot going on right now. Maybe that should wait.”

He doesn't want it. All this...it doesn't mean the same to Gabriel. He's only taking care of a needy omega. Nothing more.

Jack smiles as his heart grows heavy, falling in on itself beneath the crushing weight of rejection. He should have known better. He yanks his hands free and grabs Gabriel's face, dragging him down to hide in a kiss. He'll be damned before he shows weakness over this. There's no way he's fighting this war without Gabriel, and he's not about to let his own hurt feelings separate them. He'll take whatever he can get. Let Gabriel paint his skin with scratches and nips. Let it burn as his touch wanders. It will all be washed away soon enough, but Jack will remember. It will be something beautiful to torture himself with on sleepless nights.

For now, since this may well be all he gets, Jack lets himself be as needy and demanding as he wants. The kiss goes on and on, and it's so easy to believe it means something. Maybe it will, maybe it does. They've never talked about this. Jack's head is spinning, and all he wants is for Gabriel to take him. He doesn't understand why Gabriel won't claim him, won't let Jack leave his mark, either. But as Gabriel's mouth wanders down his throat, down to his chest, as Gabriel's clever fingers slip between his thighs and gather slick as they tease at his entrance, that confusion becomes hazy and distant, a collection of thoughts that scatter like dandelion seeds on the wind. Jack moans and rocks against Gabriel's fingers, burning up and wanting, and when Gabriel litters open-mouthed kisses along the ridge of his collarbone, he shivers and begs and keens for needs yet unfulfilled.

* * *

 

Three buildings down from where he started, Jack ran out of roofs to jump. He could have cleared the streets to either side, but there was another pile of rubble awaiting him one way, and an omnic patrolling the opposite road. He took a quick look around, revising his mental map of the immediate area with enemy positions, then made his way inside. It was time to go back to navigating the city the hard way.

He took the stairs down, stopping every other level to check the streets and update his choice of exit. Eventually, he slipped out a back door, picked his way quickly down an alley, and started down a side street leading in the general direction of the church. Without his pulse rifle, he wouldn't be much help defending the transport from omnics, but he might be useful as a distraction, at the very least.

Passing by a half-demolished convenience store, Jack couldn't help noticing the bags of chips and snacks scattered across the dusty floor. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't felt much like eating back at the church, and since the MREs were hardly appetizing to begin with, he hadn't forced himself. Now, between the fighting and his heat and simply existing as a super soldier, his body was loudly demanding the replenishment of the calories he'd burned.

It was tempting to stop and grab something. He knew from experience that not all of the packages would be ruined. Even as his eyes scanned the interior, his feet kept moving him forward, past the gutted remains of the store. He couldn't bring himself to take anything, not while he was alone. Nabbing a snack to supplement the MREs was easier as part of a squad. It somehow felt less like feeding off the misfortune of some faceless other.

Just past the store, he ducked into the shadowed safety of an alleyway. Nothing moved on the street, but he looked around, just to be sure, wishing for the thousandth time that he hadn't left his visor with Gabriel and the survivors. It was as he was looking back the way he'd come that the light fell just right for him to notice the footprints. They tracked into and out of the dust of the convenience store, then were lost to the rubble of the street. If it had been only one set, he would have dismissed it, but this was multiple tracks, all the same size, near as he could tell. Someone had been going back and forth for supplies. Had they made multiple trips to stock up before moving on? Or were they hiding out someplace nearby?

He scanned the area, looking for any other sign of life. Most of the buildings here were damaged, but few were torn completely down. There were two apartment buildings across the street, either of which could have housed survivors. He could search both, but there was no guarantee he would find someone fast enough to get them to the church in time. He could stick with the original plan, which was to meet up with Gabriel and destroy the rest of the omnics, and hope that, if there was someone still living here, they could hold out for another few days. Worst case scenario would be to find someone, and then have to protect them through the rest of the mission. Unless he was lucky enough for the evac team to bring a new pulse rifle and a shit ton of supplies, he and Gabriel weren't equipped to split their focus. Jack chewed his lip, mulling over his choices and knowing that he needed to decide soon. In any scenario, staying still was the worst option.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he looked up just in time to see a face in an apartment two stories up disappear behind the blinds.

“'Bout time I had a stroke of _good_ luck on this mission,” he muttered.

There were no omnics in sight, although he could hear the clanking of their steps a street away. Taking a deep breath, he ducked and scurried for the entrance to the complex and slipped inside.

The power was out, leaving the reception area dimly lit with what little light filtered in from outside. Part of the the far wall had buckled in, and the floor was strewn with debris. Rather than call out, Jack headed straight for the stairs. Best to be in and out as quickly and quietly as possible.

He was nearly to the second floor when a person appeared on the landing a few steps ahead: a girl no more than twelve or thirteen, her black hair tied in tight pigtails. She took a step closer, a fearsome hope in her eyes.

“Did mama send you?”

“No. I just happened to notice—” Jack had spoken without thinking, and could have kicked himself when he saw the girl's expression fall. Her nose scrunched up, face darkening as she fought back tears.

“She's dead, then.”

“That's not necessarily true.”

“Then why hasn't she come back for us? It's been two _days_!” The girl's voice broke, and she turned away, choking on a sob.

“Hey, hey. It's gonna be all right.” Jack cleared the last steps in a rush, reaching out for her shoulder. She shook him off, but he dropped to one knee, talking low and soothing. “There's a group of people waiting to be evacuated not far from here. I'm going to take you to them. Once you're out of the city, we can try to find your mom, all right?”

“It's no _use_.” The girl ground out. She had mastered her tears, but still refused to look at him.

“We don't know that,” Jack insisted, feeling like a liar, like he was offering nothing but false hope. “Once people were brought to evacuation points, they weren't allowed to leave. It may be that she _couldn't_ come back for you.”

“Then why didn't she _send_ anybody?” She glared at him in challenge.

“Maybe she tried, but there was no one who could go. Maybe they didn't make it here. Maybe she was hurt and couldn't tell anyone. We won't find out staying here and thinking the worst.”

He waited, watching her face as she considered his reasoning and fought with her own fears and grief. His heart broke for her, knowing that she was probably right. She was only a child.

“My name's Jack,” he said, offering a hand.

“Rosa.” She shook, hesitantly, and didn't smile.

“You said 'us' earlier. Who else is here with you?”

“My little brother, Sam. Samuel. He's...he's only two. I've been trying....” She had to turn aside to blink away tears again.

“It's okay. I'm going to get you and Sam out of here, all right? My partner's waiting for us. He'll hold the transport, but we still need to hurry. Can you show me where you live?”

She nodded. “This way.”

Rosa led him into the hall. Her apartment was a few doors down, and she'd locked up before coming to meet him. The inside was startlingly neat in contrast to the wreckage of the city. It almost made the war feel like a bad dream. Following her down the hall to her brother's room, Jack caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and stared. His skin was gray, coated in a mix of sweat and concrete dust, and streaked with blood and dirt. His hair was white with dust and matted with blood in places. He was an unquiet ghost in this out-of-place snapshot of calm. It was a wonder Rosa had approached him, looking the way he did.

He could hear Rosa's soft voice as she talked to her brother. “Sam? We're gonna go find mama, okay? Can you be quiet? Can you be quiet while we walk so the monsters don't find us?” There was a whimper in response.

“Is the water still running?” Jack asked, keeping his voice low. He stayed just out of sight in the hall.

“Yes.”

“I'm going to wash my face real quick so I don't scare him. If you've got some bottled water, throw that and any snacks or toys you want into a bag.”

He cleaned up as best he could while Rosa quickly packed a few belongings. When he came out, a little boy with the same dark hair and bright, brown eyes stopped where he was toddling after Rosa to stare at him. Smiling, Jack knelt down and waved.

“Hey, big guy. I'm Jack. I'm going to take you two someplace safe, all right?”

Sam only stared at him, uncertain in the way of small, wary children.

“Are you good at playing the quiet game?” Jack asked. “I used to play with my big sister. Can you play with us while we walk?”

Rosa knelt down next to Sam and put an arm around his shoulders as she murmured encouragingly to him. At last, he looked up at her and nodded, and she stood up.

“Anything else you need to bring?”

“I've got a gun.” So saying, she went to the end of the hall, unlocked the master bedroom, and disappeared inside. When she came out, she was carrying an assault rifle and a spare magazine, and Jack's eyes went wide as he reached to take it.

“Rosa, you are my new best friend. Where did you get this?”

She shrugged. “A man came to take food from the store across the street. He wasn't careful enough to look for omnics.”

It had been a stupid question to ask in the middle of a war zone.

“I'm sorry.”

“I didn't know him,” she said, shrugging again, but her chin quivered. Jack saw her start to cross her arms, then force them down to her sides. “Are we leaving now?”

He checked the rifle for any obvious damage, and slung it over a shoulder. Rosa was already wearing the backpack she'd put her things in, and she picked up Sam when Jack said they were good to go.

“Do you want me to carry him for you?”

“He's my brother,” she said, steel in her voice.

Jack nodded and they set off.

* * *

 

Gabriel is maddeningly thorough. He fingers Jack slowly and with infinite patience. Every movement is lazily drawn-out as time slips by unheeded. The buildup is so gradual that Jack barely feels the stretch as he adds a second finger. He's already practically dripping slick, making the thrust and curl of Gabriel's fingers inside him slippery-smooth. It goes on and on and on and only serves to whet his appetite for more.

Without so much as hesitating in the slow and steady rhythm he's built up, Gabriel mouths at Jack's soft cock. Still a bit extra sensitive, Jack gasps as Gabriel takes him in, mouth working to fit all of his length. It's not difficult at the moment, and he groans as Gabriel's tongue massages him. His thighs are taut, quivering to either side of Gabriel's head. His heels slip against the sheets as he squirms, wanting more, more, more. He draws his legs up and curls his toes in the sheets as Gabriel swallows around him and delves deeper inside him. He tangles his fingers in Gabriel's hair. It's grown out from the neat fade he'd kept up during the Program, gone shaggy and beginning to curl, and Jack _loves_ it, loves that he can grab and pull and moan Gabriel's name and feel him smile around a mouthful of flaccid cock.

Soon enough, Jack can no longer restrain himself. He's rocking his hips up against the heat of Gabriel's mouth. He's grinding as best he can into the press of Gabriel's fingers, fuller now with three, but it's still not enough, nowhere near enough. He's moaning with every breath, keening because he needs so badly that he's lost the words to plead, crying out as he pushes his shoulders down against the bed for leverage and oh God it hurts, he'd forgotten, how had he forgotten about his back burned red and raw? He hadn't let Gabriel wrap him in bandages after their shower last night, had only accepted a couple of large, gauze pads to protect his ruined skin, but now he's pressing himself against the mattress and the friction and the pressure are red hot brands against his shoulder blades, and still he's panting for Gabriel to _keep going, don't stop!_ And still he's canting his hips up, greedy for every last little touch.

It's Gabriel who realizes that they need to stop. He hears more pain than pleasure in Jack's voice, remembers his wounds, is collected enough to add the one to the other and pull out, pull off, pull away. He's helping Jack to sit up before Jack's brain has registered anything more than the shocking emptiness left in his wake.

Jack leans heavily into Gabriel, face buried in the crook of his neck, and he smells so good, smells like what home _could_ be. He has to bite his lip to keep from sinking his teeth into Gabriel, because Jack can't trust himself right now. A taste, a kiss, one tiny nip and he's afraid his self-control would shatter and he would bite to claim. But Gabriel said no. He isn't available to be claimed. So Jack curls in on himself in Gabriel's arms, holding back even as Gabriel strokes his good arm and pets his hair and mutters to him about what an idiot he is not to have spoken up about his back.

“You try going through a heat like this and see how much you care about a little pain,” Jack mumbles against his neck.

“Jack....”

“It's not a big deal. You know as well as I do that I'll be good as new in no time. Bones heal, pain is temporary, and scars—”

“Scars look good. I know.” He pulls back, smiling crookedly as he brushes a thumb over Jack's cheekbone and cups his face. “Stupid of me to not want to see you get hurt, I guess.”

“It's not stupid,” Jack says softly.

“It's going to happen. We're soldiers. I.... _This_ —” He gestures between them. “—almost let me forget.”

“Hey.”

He takes Gabriel's face in his hands and meets his eyes. Gabriel looks exhausted. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, his mustache and beard are badly in need of a trim, and a pair of shiny new scars ride one cheekbone. There's something in his expression Jack's never seen before, and he is, wholly and without a doubt, the most amazing, beautiful person Jack has ever known.

“We're here to win a fucking war, remember?” He smiles for Gabriel as he hands back his CO's own words. “We can deal with the heavy stuff after we come out the other side.”

He offers his own hopes along with the encouragement; the hope that Gabriel wasn't rejecting his claim entirely, that this is about more than some sort of reward for making it through.

Gabriel's hands settle over Jack's, holding them in place as he turns his head to kiss first one palm and then the other. The tenderness of the gesture swells Jack's heart until he almost can't breathe around it, and startles him with the hot prickle of tears. He blinks them away before they can fall, grinning and hoping Gabriel doesn't see exactly how much it means to him.

Jack still wants him, still wants Gabriel's mark on his body, wants everyone to know that they belong together in every way. They're in the middle of a war. Determination and bravado only count for so much. For all the give-'em-hell speeches they make to each other, tomorrow is frighteningly uncertain. Jack doesn't want to have any regrets. He doesn't want to die without claiming Gabriel as his mate.

But...it isn't his decision alone.

He lets out a shaky breath and rests his forehead against Gabriel's. He feels feverish and shaky. His heartbeat throbs in his veins. He is empty and aching.

“Tell me what you need, Jackie.”

“You,” he breathes. “Just you. All of you. Please.”

He doesn't know why he expects Gabriel to kiss him, but his heart sinks when that doesn't happen.

“Can you turn around for me? Get on your hands and knees?”

Jack does as he's asked. Behind him, he hears the rustle of fabric. Gabriel's scent grows stronger as his sweats go flying across the room. The bed shifts and creaks beneath them. Although Jack is ready as can be, it's Gabriel's fingers rather than his cock that he feels press inside him. With a petulant moan, he rocks back against them. His dick is slowly firming up, but if Gabriel is going to insist on this slow and steady bullshit much longer, he's going to finger Jack right back to sleep.

“You're reckless,” Gabriel says mildly. “You disobeyed a direct order, and you did it right in front of me. You very nearly got yourself killed.”

His fingers flex and scissor inside Jack, working him open. Slick is dripping down the insides of Jack's thighs. The room is humid and heavy with the scent of his sex. He can smell Gabriel despite the muddle of it, a pervasive, musky scent, alpha through and through. Jack's mouth waters. He shuffles his knees further apart. His cock is stiffening beneath him.

“I see some of the stunts you pull, Jack, and sometimes I think it's a miracle that you've survived this long. And you know what really kills me? As much as I hate all those close calls, I can't help cheering for you. You're what we all need right now, Jack, you and your stupid, bleeding heart. We need a miracle. We need survival against all odds. We need hope and compassion. You give that to people just by being who you are. And I.... Fuck, Jackie...!”

Gabriel yanks his hand away. A moment later, his cock is pressed against Jack's ass, thick and hard and Jack can't help the strangled note of pure desire that tears its way out of his throat. He wants this, wants this so bad, wants Gabriel buried deep inside him, wants this because they're connected somehow, someplace deeper than than the physical, more meaningful than the Program and the war. They were made for each other, Jack's sure of it, and this joining brings that awareness to a focus, to a point so sharp that it cuts him, makes him bleed, reminds him that it's _real_ , that it's not just something his dazed brain cooked up between daydreams. This is where he belongs. Not in the group of would-be heroes they're calling Overwatch, not on the front lines of humanity's war for survival or in an experimental super soldier program. He belongs at Gabriel's side, because it's Gabriel that makes him want to be better, to burn brighter, _together_. Jack has never once feared that Gabriel would leave him behind. His only uncertainty is whether Gabriel can love him in all the same ways.

But now Gabriel is rutting against him, slicking his cock between Jack's cheeks, clutching at his chest and kissing the exposed skin of his back. Distantly, he's aware that he must taste like blood and antiseptic gel and cheap soap, but if Gabriel has noticed, he doesn't seem to mind. His mouth is a brand. His teeth leave superficial marks that will fade within a day. He's whispering Jack's name like a prayer against his skin, and it's so close to being everything he wants that all Jack can do is rock back against him and beg: _please, please, please!_

The kisses spread warmth across the tops of his shoulders, above the gauze pads that cover the worst of his burns. The thrust of Gabriel's hips slows. His bites gentle until the little nips barely pinch Jack's skin. His broad hands are splayed across Jack's chest, massaging gently. He's mouthing at the crook of Jack's neck, open-mouthed kisses that linger to taste, and soon he's making no attempt to hide the urge that burns within him, too. His tongue is hot against Jack's skin as he bathes the area, lapping up sweat and scent. The graze of his teeth makes Jack shiver.

“Do it, Gabe. Do it! God. Fuck. Please...! _Mark_ me!”

“Your heat...” he murmurs. It's the closest he's ever come close to suggesting that Jack isn't thinking straight because of his biology, but he sounds near drunk on it himself.

“No regrets,” Jack gasps out. He's aching for Gabriel, is going crazy to feel him hot and hard and ready, yet still holding back. He grinds his ass against Gabriel, pleased by the groan he earns in response and the way Gabriel squeezes his chest.

Gabriel gives him everything he wants. He lines up and pushes inside until he bottoms out and Jack is left voiceless, back bowed with the perfection of how they fit together. Gabriel allows him a few rushed heartbeats to adjust, then sinks his teeth into the crook of Jack's neck.

* * *

 

It felt like it took forever to make it back within sight of the church. In reality, it was less than half an hour. Jack and the children heard the rescue chopper before they saw it swooping in. There was space enough in the parking lot next to the church for it to land, and its presence meant abandoning their attempts at stealth. As soon as Jack heard the engines, he was on the radio to Gabriel, telling him he had two more survivors incoming and to hold the transport. What had been a hurried creep through abandoned, gutted streets turned into an all out dash for their best chance at safety. Grim-faced with determination, Rosa was still holding Sam. Jack had the rifle out and ready to cover them, trying to watch every direction at once as they ran the last few blocks to their goal.

They hadn't quite made it when the gunfire started. Immediately, Jack grabbed the children and pushed them low and off to the side. The shots had come from a small distance away—likely Gabriel engaging an omnic—but although they probably weren't the intended targets, stray bullets were no less deadly. Either way, they were headed into a gunfight, and their pursuit would be closing soon enough to see what all the fuss was about.

Jack's world narrowed to a soldier's focus. Enemies ahead. One ally on the ground. A gunner in the chopper. Non-combatants that needed to be protected, along with the transport. Two more at his side. More enemies closing in from behind at an unknown distance. Five hundred yards to the parking lot where the transport was landing. Sparse cover. No time to waste.

“Keep low and follow me. Don't hesitate, don't freeze up. Our best chance is for everyone to be on board that transport as quickly as possible. Once it's in the air, you'll be safe.” He'd been scanning the area while he spoke, but he looked Rosa in the eye to ask: “Ready?”

She nodded, face ashen. Jack rested a hand briefly on her shoulder.

“It'll be fine. I'll protect you both. I promise.”

Gabriel would have told him that he ought to know better than to make promises like that, but Jack didn't have it in him not to offer hope where he could.

“Ready...and... _go_!”

Rosa shot off across the cracked pavement, clutching Sam to her chest. Jack shadowed them as they ran, ears straining for the sounds of approaching omnics. Even hunched over to present a smaller target, he felt horribly exposed. The space between his shoulder blades itched. He was tense with the knowledge that the omnics that had been hunting him could appear behind them at any moment.

He needn't have worried about that. Just as he realized that the wind was blowing from behind him, the second sensor-equipped OR14 came barreling out from behind the last demolished building between them and the church.

“ _Down_!” Jack snarled. He darted forward. Certain that he was the omnic's target, he moved diagonally, putting distance between himself and the children. As long as he stayed away from them....

The OR14 raised its arm-mounted cannon and took aim—not at Jack, but at Rosa and her brother. With a shout of rage, Jack dove to intercept. The assault rifle jerked in his hands as he fired, targeting the cannon, trying to knock it aside. It was just enough to keep the omnic from firing until Jack was upon it, wrath personified as he emptied the last of the clip into the thing's chest.

He'd been so focused on the gun, that he'd forgotten the OR14s carried other weapons. His reflexes were all that saved him from losing his head to an energy sword, and even then he wasn't quick enough to avoid it completely. The blade caught him on the downswing. It sheared through armor, sleeve, skin, and muscle, slicing his left arm from shoulder to elbow.

Distantly, Jack heard Rosa screaming. The faces of his fallen comrades flashed through his mind. He didn't think. As the OR14 raised its sword again, Jack caught its arm. He gripped, pivoted, and, as the SEP had promised, he did the impossible. With a roar, he wrenched the omnic off its feet and slammed it to the ground.

Someone was shouting. Jack barely heard it over the harsh rasp of his breath. His head spun as he stared down at the omnic working to right itself. Some combination of exertion and adrenaline and blood loss left him gaping and frozen to the spot. The shouting got louder. A familiar pair of shotguns appeared before him, trained on the omnic's head and chest. They fired point-blank. The omnic twitched and seized like a living thing, then drooped and went still. Jack didn't look up from it until he was grabbed by the front of his shirt.

“What the _fuck_ did you think you were doing, you idiot? What part of 'no stunts' didn't make it through that thick skull of yours? I should shoot you myself!”

“Gabe.”

Gabriel held him by his collar, blazing with fury. He looked none the worse for wear, and relief left Jack feeling momentarily boneless. He hung in Gabriel's grip, letting the rant flow in one ear and out the other. Through the dust and the blood and the scorched metal, Gabriel's scent reached his nose, powerful in its subtlety, intoxicating. Jack was leaning forward before he could stop himself, intent on basking in that glorious scent, on getting a taste, on ceasing the flow of invective with a kiss.

Movement, in the corner of his eye. His head turned slowly, as if in a dream, to see that the final Bastion unit had found them. It stopped in its tracks, rapidly re-configuring. Jack saw the faint haze as the energy cannon prepared to fire.

Gabriel was slow to spot it. The blast came. Still caught in his dream-like clarity, Jack pushed him down. The shot grazed him instead of killing Gabriel, searing across his shoulder blades. Shock delayed the worst of the pain as Gabriel shoved him aside to get up and attack.

Rosa was screaming, Sam was crying, Gabriel was shouting, shotguns blazing. Jack watched the Bastion fall beneath the onslaught, and then Rosa was kneeling next to him—When had he fallen down?—calling his name. She reached out to shake him and agony exploded across his back. He screamed.

* * *

 

The pain of the bite is sudden and unexpectedly harsh. Jack screams hoarsely as Gabriel draws blood. The sensation floods his body, and he thinks if he'd been fully hard he'd have come then and there. Satisfaction flows in after it, thick and sweet, as the initial pain settles to a throb. The odor of blood is thick, but he can smell Gabriel even more strongly now, alpha pheromones suddenly running on overdrive. Gabriel is still buried deep inside him, rolling his hips ever so gently as he focuses his attention on the wound he's just created to mark Jack as his mate. He licks the blood away, nuzzling Jack's fever-hot skin, and Jack feels suddenly dizzy. He's afraid this might all turn out to be a dream.

“Gabe....” His voice emerges as a croak. There's nothing sexy about it, but he's too desperate to care. He rocks beneath Gabriel, reminding him that there are other needs to be met. Gabriel chuckles.

“Always need more attention, don't you?”

He draws his hips back inch by slow inch, then snaps them forward, forcing a cry from Jack's throat. It's a harsh, broken sound, but there's nothing of pain in it, only satisfaction. Gabriel's hands run from his shoulders, down his sides, to his hips and settle there, fingers digging in. His grip is all the warning he gives before he starts fucking Jack in earnest, thrusting in and out easily, quickly, building up the speed of his rhythm, giving it to Jack as fast and as hard as he can as Jack shouts encouragement and begs him not to stop.

Gabriel fills him so perfectly, hits that sweet spot so effortlessly. Jack is left breathless in no time, thoughts blanked by the jolts of pleasure surging through him. Gabriel is murmuring praises to him, calling him Jackie, and his heart soars. He's always loved it when Gabriel calls him that, never understood why he stopped. Hearing that simple bit of affection as Gabriel thrusts into him fulfills a different sort of need. It's as if he's been suffering through a drought without realizing it, and is now soaking up a cloudburst.

_Mine! Mine! Mine!_ The slap of flesh against flesh is sharp and steady. Gabriel learned quickly that Jack likes it fast and rough. He slips a hand beneath Jack, reaching for his cock, and pumps in sync with his thrusts. Jack is breaking apart into sensations. He's pressure and emptiness, he's racing heartbeat, he's throbbing pulse, heaving chest, stretch of thighs, trembling arms, the slick glide of fullness, and stars bursting behind his eyes. He's burning hot and every touch of Gabriel's skin against his own is hotter still. He's mindless motion caught up in Gabriel's pace, nothing but need growing ever more pointed.

Too soon, he's close, can feel the pleasure building up, roiling inside of him, readying to burst. He calls Gabriel's name, and although he can't find the words, there must be something in his tone, something in the tautness of his body, the clenching of his muscles that makes his meaning clear. Gabriel withdraws, leaving Jack sagging, gasping, wondering why they stopped....

“Jackie.... Come here, Jackie. Turn around for me. I want to see your face.”

His hands gather and guide. They shuffle awkwardly, a tangle of sweat- and slick-soaked limbs as Gabriel lies back and tugs Jack on top of him. Jack positions himself without being told, finding Gabriel's cock by touch and guiding it back inside, sinking down onto it with a sigh of deepest satisfaction. He rolls his hips, drinking in the moan he drags from Gabriel's throat, and begins to move in earnest.

He can't move his hips fast enough to suit the need eating him up inside. He's taking every inch of Gabriel and it's almost enough, _almost_ enough...! As Gabriel's hands grip his hips, Jack touches himself, stroking, coaxing the liquid pleasure to build up more and more. He twists one of his nipples, reaches higher, finds the raw mark Gabriel's teeth left in his shoulder and digs his fingers in. The shock of pain sends him over the edge, and he comes with a shout, spilling across Gabriel's stomach and chest.

His rhythm falters, slackens. He lets Gabriel's hands guide him. The glide of Gabriel's cock inside him gentles. Jack rocks his hips around the length of him before raising up again, again, again. His arms are limp at his sides. His head is spinning. He doesn't know how long Gabriel lasts until he comes, as well, but the heat of him spilling deep inside is welcome and fulfilling. Jack squirms, settling firmly on Gabriel's thighs, determined to keep as much of him inside for as long as possible. They catch their breaths that way: Gabriel splayed out on the too-small bed, Jack kneeling astride him, feeling Gabriel's dick grow soft inside him. It's cramped and too warm and reeks of sex, and Jack wouldn't trade the moment for anything.

When Gabriel finally moves, it's careful, hesitant. He sits up, doing his best not to pull out, but Jack can feel slick and come dripping down his thighs. They'll have to get up soon, get cleaned up. His arm is aching sharply—he'll need to check on that.

Idly, he wonders how long they have like this. Gabriel was able to swing an emergency extraction due to the loss of their unit and Jack's injuries, but the war is still going. There will be another unit for them, another hot spot. More casualties, more grieving souls like the man from the church. Like Rosa and Sam. A day, maybe two, and Jack will be fully functional and thrust back into the middle of it all. Anything that doesn't outright kill one of them means it's only a matter of time before they're charging into hoards of omnics once more. Maybe it's selfish, but he wants to enjoy this reprieve. He _is_ enjoying it. He's no hero, after all. But duty nags him. He's still needed.

There's one more thing _he_ needs before the world calls them back to fight.

Gabriel cups his cheek, fingers stroking the hair at Jack's temple. His eyes are so very warm, and Jack sinks into them until the world goes dark as his own eyes close and their lips meet. The kiss is slow, sweet, the calm in the eye of the storm. Gabriel breaks it. He kisses the tip of Jack's nose, curls a hand around the back of his head to kiss between his eyes and the center of his forehead. He cocks his head to the side, guides Jack's lips to the juncture between neck and shoulder.

He smells so very good.

“You're sure?” Jack asks the question against his skin, licks the salt sweat from his lips, and is mouthing at Gabriel's neck before he gets an answer.

“Just as sure as you are, Jackie. I hope you're not backing out now. Not after I gave you this.”

His free hand finds the claim he left on Jack, the swollen bite that will scar and mark Jack as his mate. Jack smiles at his touch, raising a hand to cover Gabriel's.

“I hope you can keep up with me.”

“Be as demanding as you want, Sunshine. It'll be a pleasure.”

Jack grins. His shoulders shake with quiet laughter as he laces their fingers together over the mark. He presses one soft kiss against his mate's skin, then sinks his teeth in.

 


End file.
